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Closer in time,
Your heart is
Aching in your chest.
Fading lights
The stars wander
Out of the sky, just chance.
And inside
The warmth of
Just one more night.
From my lungs
I feel a tugging
Catching my breath.

In your sea, I am but a drop
Yet, you are my ocean.
On the field of love, I am but a rock
And you are the mountain.
I feel as sisyphus,
In love with his punishment-
But I've pushed too much.
This torture is redundant,
We get nowhere and feel as though
Further down the hill.
And yet, I love you as such
I would never cease pushing
Till my heart stops
And muscles grow still.
For what is love
To the stone heart?

Lovingly, to fall for Medusa
Onto my own sword.
For were I tasked to **** her
I should sooner forgo my life
So that she may have her own.
For I looked into the eyes of the Gorgon
With my last breath,
And when she spoke
It was clear she was no monster
But a disgraced goddess.
Never did I turn to stone.
As I lay lifeless, she wept
And offered her *****.
Every touch was like lightning,
Though I was the center of the storm;
She showed me kindness
The likes of I had never known before.
And when I was revived
I wept too.
Be the recluse,
Be the hermit,
And make your assessments of others
Based on short and fleeting interaction,
Drenched in the sweat of "purpose" & "agenda,"
And be met with statements
Which really convey nothing and rarely
Encapsulate honest thought in brevity
But are said only to end the conversation.
Close knit,
The threads choke,
Living your turtleneck life.
No collar to be turned up,
The cotton already hugs your throat;
Nothing to end abrupt,
That which never saw its start.
Those who talk
Simply to hear themselves,
Do they have anything to say?
Those with the blinders on,
They never see the entrance ramp
Neither the turn-offs
Till it's too late.
As with friends too many, but never enough;
Strangers are plenty, yet scarce is friendship
Some Conway Cabal;
It's a regular circus,
In the capitol.
Fools will paint with broad strokes,
Throw large loops,
And apply utterly meaningless labels
To the wide swath of subjects
Which they will not even try to understand.
Common man & academic-
There will be many who approach you
With the guise of knowledge,
Some through the visage of an education,
But will speak and show
Their teaching was not adequate
Lacking and inappropriate.
Character defects? Poor teachers?
And, you ask, where do I fit?
What do I know?
Evidently more if you have the will to ask,
The strength to accept the honest answer.
You should follow the law,
And if it's wrong
It should **** you off
And make you motivated for change.
Motive with your discipline should result in action,
Whether you merely speak out for what you believe,
In verbal or physical protest.
Your ancestors had freedoms to yours in fractions
And wealth the same,
Still they fought
To edge out a line in the sand
For a land with equal rights for every man.
Do you wish to return to such old & backward ways
As feudal days with no say?
I have no stock in a generation
Who does not care whether
There is social security enough left
To secure my retirement,
A system I have paid into tiringly.
If you want to end it
Be sure I receive my back checks,
Or risk being strung by the neck.
I have no assurances
I will even be allowed to retire,
Only assured those in the house
Could not care less
As to such questions of great importance.
They busy themselves with war,
While we suffer and only grow more poor
And have no interest in developing industry or infrastructure here at home.
They know nothing of the branch
Only the rich fruit of the olives,
Whatever ripe can be harvested.
Yet, they know not how to sow.
Our chariot soared through the tunnel
And from out of the dark, light.
The sight of the city erupting
With fires' glare burning bright,
Venom like a snake's bite.
Vast buildings careening down,
As we maneuvered around them
The air was thick with smoke
And the smell of lead & sulfur,
The ground shook in violence.
We landed in a clearing,
The end was close at hand
The limits to see it, subjective;
For many laid dead in our stead,
Many enemies & siblings come to head,
And long did we have to tread before rest.
I unfurled the flag
And hoisted it up overhead,
Flying high on the mast.
I said my prayers
And made my peace,
Before the rain began.
All around me was storming,
Shutters battered marble
Amid crys for no quarter-
Blood was to be our recompense
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